


Skinny Love

by hikari_yuma



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Developed Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Lots of sads, M/M, Some family fluff, i cry, lots of hugging, what am I even doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 06:17:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2721818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikari_yuma/pseuds/hikari_yuma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day that Tatara Totsuka met Mikoto Suoh was the day that everything changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: From a Thorn to a Rose

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to 'Skinny Love' by Birdy and all I could think of was these two. I started writing and this is what happened. It's probably not very good and bits and pieces may be all over the place, but I may continue it to add in more parts, possibly other one-shots or chapters that continue on from this - this may be a prologue or something?? Please tell me what you think and critiques are always welcome! As a side note, not everything in this may be accurate. Hopefully you enjoy this!
> 
> Disclaimer: All of these amazing characters do not belong to me. I take no credit for their creation or any of the K universe.

The day that Mikoto Suoh had met the optimist named Tatara Totsuka had been warm, full of sunshine and laced with laughter, rather like the latter himself. At first, the 14-year-old had been a mere thorn in his side. An unwelcome one, yes, but trivial all the same. Of course, that had only been at first. After two weeks of being greeted with something along the lines of ‘Hello, King!’, he’d begun to notice things. They were small, but eventually he began to pick out certain little things that made the persistent boy unique. Mikoto had never given away that he’d noticed these things, and nobody had ever noticed what information he’d gathered. Things such as how Totsuka would always look as if he was in a hurry, with one button of his coat undone at the bottom, or how his hair was always ruffled and pushed slightly to one side and sticking up all over the place. He was a quiet observer, and it was rare for him to speak up first to those that didn’t concern him. At first, that went for Totsuka, too – someone who didn’t concern Mikoto. At first, Totsuka was just a thorn

But then one day, the boy didn’t turn up to greet him.

There was no cheerful wave or blinding smile, no panting breath or light footsteps as the boy hurried to catch up to him and Izumo. There was no random question or attempt at conversation, and no sigh when he didn’t respond. He didn’t care, of course. Or…that’s what he thought. It merely irked him as it was an inconsistency, but by the third day he realised…well, that he was confused. He wasn’t concerned, surely – just confused. He wasn’t complaining, but then again, why had the boy just suddenly stopped following him around one day? The look of adoration wouldn’t have been easy to fake and Mikoto was well aware of the awe that the younger teen had for him. So on the third day that there was no Totsuka, he turned to Izumo and in his gruff, quiet voice, murmured, “Hey, Izumo. Know where that kid is?” Izumo seemed startled by the query, but then shrugged.

“No idea.” He replied, straightening his tie. “Why, Mikoto? You gone and gotten attached to the little puppy?” The only reply he received was silence, and so he dropped the subject, clearly getting the message that Mikoto would not respond in any way, shape, or form.

Mikoto sat at the bar, idly staring off into space as he allowed himself to become lost in his thoughts. For one reason or another, they were about the odd boy that called him King and followed him around. Mikoto couldn’t understand it. How was _he_ a King, or in any way able to be compared to one? Why did the boy seem to have such faith in him, and hold him in such high regard? He knew that there were plenty of better things that Totsuka could have used his time and energy on, yet instead the bright young teen used it to pursue an unfriendly, tough, and relatively impassive being such as himself, for reasons that seemed unselfish and would get him nothing. So why…? He exhaled, breath becoming a soft sigh laced with mystification. He was about to cut off his own thoughts anyway when Izumo began to speak to him, remarking about the kid. He decided to keep relatively silent, but then the phone rang. He arched a brow, and watched absentmindedly as his friend answered it. He could see the other young man stiffen, shoulders tensing however much Izumo tried to will it away, and Mikoto straightened in his chair. Had something happened? However, when Izumo turned around and told him what had happened, that Totsuka was in the hospital after getting beaten up, he fought hard to keep his face a discernible mask. He looked away quickly, swearing under his breath.

The first emotion that followed the shock was guilt as he realised that there was only one reason the kid could have ended up in hospital.

It was because of him. Or at least, it was related to him in some way. He could feel Izumo’s curious brown gaze resting on him and so resisted the urge to curl his hands into fists. He and Izumo ended up at the hospital not long after the phone call and through the window, Mikoto had seen the kid reading while wearing a somewhat peaceful expression. For some reason, it put his mind at ease a little. But then they walked in and Totsuka sat up, flashing that familiar smile and greeting him with a cheerful, ‘Hey!’ But one look at the kid’s condition had Mikoto inwardly fuming. A broken leg, an injured arm, bruises littering that slim frame and porcelain skin – in the hospital bed, covered thoroughly in bandages, Tatara looked more delicate and weak than ever. So was that what the fucker’s that had beaten him up thought? That he was a helpless little kid and that they’d use him for revenge? He barely noticed Izumo speaking and so when he butted in he cut right to the chase, putting his hands into his pockets so that no one could see how furious he really was.

“Who did this to you?” It was curt, but it concealed well his true emotions. At first, he saw the kid pause, and wondered if he’d get an answer. But then that smile returned, leaving Mikoto frustrated. Totsuka had been beaten up and put in hospital. Totsuka had been injured and could have even been killed because of _him_ and yet here he was, _smiling?!_ It made Mikoto sick to his stomach, how the kid could smile at him like that despite what had happened. Before Totsuka answered, Izumo leaned forwards and warned the kid about hanging out with Mikoto. _‘He’s right. I should have told him myself, earlier.’_ It was all his fault, dammit! As he promised to be careful, Mikoto could have turned around and punched him. Be more careful next time? _Be more careful?!_ No! He didn’t want there to be a next time! Totsuka shouldn’t have been beaten up in the first place!

He clenched his jaw and, with his hands still deep in his pockets, stalked over to the end of the bed. In his frustration, he lifted his leg up and slammed his foot down on the bed, causing Totsuka to sit up quickly. Mikoto chanced a quick glance at Totsuka and once more felt the guilt beginning to boil away within his gut once more. All he could think of was how Totsuka, kind, naïve, optimistic Totsuka, would have stopped smiling when he’d gotten beaten up. That smile of his would have been gone, replaced by a look of agony, and it made Mikoto feel sick to his stomach. _‘This shouldn’t have happened. I should have protected you.’_ As soon as he realised what he’d just thought, he froze. Where the hell had that come from? He didn’t owe Totsuka anything. Well…he did now.

“I asked you a question.”

Once more his voice was gruff, and he resisted the urge to simply turn around and flee from that open face filled and winning smile. Someone like Totsuka should not have smiled at someone like Mikoto, or at least, that was what he was certain of then. When Totsuka asked him of a favour, Mikoto couldn’t help but be glad – no, _relieved_. Finally the idiot seemed to be understanding the severity of this situation and he would be able to redeem himself, at least a little. He saw Izumo casting a glance towards him and with a soft sigh, nodded. But no less than five seconds later, the goofy Totsuka was back and kicking, and Mikoto fought the urge to tear his hair out in frustration. Totsuka pissed him off, and that in itself was a damn understatement. Relenting, despite Izumo’s shock, he wasted no time in quickly succeeding the foot-scratch with a blow to Totsuka’s head. He stalked out of the room, back stiff and hands clenched so tight he was beginning to lose feeling to them.

It wasn't too long before Izumo caught up to him.

"Hey! Mikoto!" The older teen called after him. As soon as was beside Mikoto, he looked over at his friend and gave him a look of pure bewilderment. "What was that, back there?"

"Nobody fucks with me." Izumo could hear the two unspoken words, clear as day.

"Mikoto...he isn't yours to protect." Mikoto kept walking, shoulders stiffening. He was going to make those bastards pay for hurting that kid. He barely knew the airheaded middle schooler they'd just visited in the hospital, but Mikoto didn't care. Someone had gotten hurt because of him, and that was the last thing he wanted - ever. Standing there, looking at Totsuka with his many bruises and injuries, Mikoto had felt as if he himself had tied the kid to a tree and inflicted all of that hurt himself. He clenched his hands into fists. It was one thing causing harm to egotistical shitheads that thought they could do whatever they pleased, but another thing entirely to harm a stupid kid who didn't know any better. Tatara Totsuka was the latter and the seniors he was going to pay a visit to were the former. And he had a _lot_ of anger that he'd been keeping repressed. Clearly, Izumo knew what he planned to do, and was trying to think up a way to stop him. "Don't do something stupid because of an airheaded kid." Mikoto barely glanced at him. "Mikoto, listen to me! You think this'll make things right? Well, it's not going to. Understand?"

"I'm not trying to make things right." The fiery redhead told him, with a dangerous glint to his amber eyes. "I don't 'make things right'. I'm going to make sure this doesn't happen again." Izumo could only stare hopelessly after him as Mikoto cracked his knuckles. 

**~~~**

The day that he realised he’d begun to change because of a certain brunette was slightly overcast, chilly, and laced with the beginnings of tears. The time that he realised he’d stopped referring to Tatara as ‘kid’, ‘that brat’, or ‘idiot’, and had begun to refer to the boy as ‘Totsuka’ was, in fact, this cloud-covered day. He hadn’t really noticed the transition, of course, nor did he notice when Tatara began to occupy his thoughts more. For example, _‘He was yammering on about his finals the other day. He’s in his last year of middle school, right? I wonder how he’s holding up.’_ Little things, of course, not really noticeable, like, _‘His coat’s buttoned up all the way. Is he sick? He never does all the buttons up on his coat.’_ Until one day, when he was talking to Izumo, he realised how much Totsuka _did_ occupy his thoughts.

“Does Totsuka still hang around your bar?” He asked one day, sipping idly from a drink. He didn’t realise that there was a smirk spreading itself across his friend’s face until he looked up when he didn’t receive an answer. “Well?” He demanded, eyes narrowing. Izumo hurried to wipe the smirk off of his face.

“Nothing. But as for your question…of course. Why, he still annoying you?” Mikoto only grunted in response, throwing in a shrug for good measure. He was annoyed at the fact that it irked him when Izumo had assumed that Totsuka was annoying him. He grudgingly acknowledged that he didn’t seem to mind the kid hanging around him anymore. It was kind of a welcome presence, he supposed. Talking with Totsuka – or rather, listening to him, as Mikoto could never get a word in with the incessant chattering of the younger teen – left him relaxed. He couldn’t explain it, and didn’t bother trying to. He was usually so tense these days, and his temper had grown shorter and shorter as each week progressed. This caused people to avoid him, and while he welcomed the lack of outbursts due to the increasingly-limited contact with people in general he gritted his teeth at all of the scared glances he was cast. Even Izumo had begun to act more cautious while around him. Instead of throwing an arm around Mikoto’s broad shoulders like he always did, Izumo would merely just bump their shoulders. But Totsuka…no, he had never once drawn away from Mikoto. If anything, as the weeks had passed, the young brunette had only started to get closer to him.

It had begun after Totsuka first got out of hospital, when the kid was on crutches. Mikoto didn’t slow down, not expecting the teen to still follow him after getting beaten up, especially as it was _because_ of Mikoto, but lo and behold, another three days later Mikoto and Izumo were headed home – or in Mikoto’s case, to the bar, when they heard the familiar, excited call of, “Hey, King!” The two of them turned around, Mikoto with narrowed eyes and Izumo with a small smile, to see Tatara Totsuka headed recklessly for them on crutches. Mikoto was about to turn around and walk off, like he usually did, but for some reason he broke routine and waited for the kid to catch up. Looking back on it later, he realised that whenever it came to Totsuka he did a lot of things spontaneously. Once Totsuka had caught up with them he turned back and set off again, not slowing down. Though this left Totsuka obviously out of breath, it seemed to lift the kid’s spirits further, if that were possible. It took three weeks, but eventually Mikoto slowed his pace, despite not waiting for him, allowing Totsuka to walk at a more comfortable pace. Of course, Totsuka had grown fit and able to keep up with Mikoto after three weeks and yet the look of complete and utter joy that spread itself across the kid’s face was a reward in itself. And for the first time in a while, Mikoto found himself smiling. It was a short smile but genuine all the same, a small, sweet thing shared between Totsuka and Mikoto. And when the inevitable happened and Totsuka called him King, he found that he didn’t mind it as much as he usually did. For once, someone had faith in him. For once, someone seemed to care. And that in itself was enough to make him smile.

**~~~**

The day that Tatara Totsuka was finally allowed into Izumo Kusanagi’s bar was cold and clear, filled with aromatic breezes that spoke of hope and promises. It had been five months since Totsuka had first started hanging around Mikoto and by then even Izumo was familiar with Tatara as the latter was with him. Though Izumo and Tatara were on a first-name basis, and if Mikoto ever spoke to Tatara he used the teen’s last name, Tatara still called Mikoto ‘King’. Tatara was sitting outside the bar as he always was, singing a tune that rang with sincerity and yearning. It was a song of what to hope for in the future, a song that spoke of times gone past. It was a nostalgic song, and Mikoto didn’t realise that he’d relaxed and closed his eyes until Izumo shook his shoulder.

“Mikoto, are you alright?” His friend asked, staring down at him with a trace of concern on his face. Mikoto only grunted in response, as he usually did, and his amber eyes flickered open.

“That’s Totsuka, right? He out there singing?” Mikoto asked eventually, stretching. Izumo nodded, obviously about to ask Mikoto why he’d asked, but before he could speak Mikoto had slid off of his stool and ambled over towards the door, movements liquid and graceful as a cat’s despite his large and muscular frame.

Opening the door slowly, he slipped outside and glanced to the left to see the young brunette sitting cross-legged against the wall, still continuing to sing. He had his eyes closed, and Mikoto wondered briefly if the kid’s own singing lulled him as much as it did Mikoto. He took a moment to admire how the younger teen looked completely relaxed. Totsuka’s face seemed softer than he remembered, though he’d only last seen the kid’s face a few hours ago. Totsuka appeared to be completely at peace, and Mikoto wondered if he’d ever seen anyone else that wore the look that Totsuka had then before. Mikoto allowed himself to relax again, closing the door and leaning against the wall about a metre from Totsuka, enjoying the silence and peace. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but when he heard Totsuka’s familiar greeting of, “Hello, King!” his eyes snapped open and he noticed that Totsuka was not beaming at him, as per usual, but just smiling softly. And once more, Mikoto found himself returning the smile.

When he turned to go back inside, instead of shutting the door like he usually did, he left it open. He expected Totsuka to take the hint but when the kid didn’t follow he sighed and walked over to the door and looked out to where Totsuka was only just getting to his feet.

“Well, seeya King. Sleep well.” As Totsuka turned to go, Mikoto stepped out onto the street.

“Totsuka.” He murmured with a sigh. Totsuka turned eagerly, honey-brown eyes lighting up.

“Yeah?” The brunette asked, his usual smile returning. Totsuka’s hair was sticking up all over the place, as per usual, and Mikoto had a sudden urge to ruffle the head of silky light brown locks.

“You can come in.” Mikoto watched the brunette’s expression and was not disappointed. Totsuka’s mouth was hanging open, and Mikoto nearly laughed. He turned around and dropped his cigarette, despite not finishing it, and crushed it under the heel of his boot with a well-practiced twist. Izumo would strangle him if he dared smoke inside the bar, or at least not talk to him for a week. He waited for a still-shocked Totsuka to pass him and, like he had all of those months ago in the hospital, sent his fist into the top of Totsuka’s head. “Idiot.”

**~~~**

The day that Tatara Totsuka first hugged Mikoto was saturated with rain and smothered with gloom. It was the first day of school for the year and Mikoto was entering his third year of high school. He strolled into school, hands dug into his pockets with a bored expression resting upon his face. It worked well to conceal his emotions and after his last growth spurt effectively cooperated with his towering height to keep people away from him. He found himself feeling a little out of place, though – Izumo was even taller than him but at least last year he’d had someone to stick with. Now he was alone –

“Hey, King!” He heard a familiar voice and turned to see Totsuka hurrying towards him. He hadn’t seen Totsuka in several weeks, and the now-first year’s hair seemed to have lost some of its energy, now lying flat on his head as opposed to how it had used to stick up everywhere. As Totsuka always did, he entered the invisible ring around Mikoto and hurried over to the redhead.

Mikoto wondered why Totsuka was the only one that dared get close to him, apart from Izumo.

He expected the pale-skinned brunette to fall into step behind him, as the younger teen’s sudden arrival had only stirred surprise in him for a few moments, and so he continued on his way. However he stopped dead when he felt a thin body slam into him from behind, and to only add to his surplus of shock he felt thin arms wrap themselves around him. It took him a few moments, but Mikoto eventually realised that he was being _hugged._ No one had hugged him in a long time. He didn’t live with his parents and even before Izumo had grown distant from him in terms of physical contact, the tall blonde had rarely hugged him properly. They’d always given each other one-armed hugs or leaned on each other’s shoulders, but for Totsuka to run over to him and hug him – it astonished him. Oddly enough, he found himself not pulling away. “I missed you, King! I haven’t seen you and Izumo in a while. I went to Tokyo, see, and it was fun! But I’m back now, and look; we’ll be going to the same school now!” Totsuka’s excited chattering fell on deaf ears as Mikoto’s thoughts ran wild.

When had he let someone get so close to him, outside of Izumo? He couldn’t remember it happening vividly, and it seemed to be more of a developing thing. But more importantly, _why?_ Why did Totsuka care enough, to give him a hug? Why did Totsuka adore him and respect him so? Could Totsuka not see how everyone else seemed to fear him? He glanced down at his hands and curled them into fists. He was violent and hot-headed. His temper was legendary. He’d had blood on his hands plenty of times before and one of those times had been when he’d been getting revenge for Totsuka. He was fierce and Totsuka was gentle. He was dangerous and Totsuka was weak. And yet there Totsuka was, face pressed against Mikoto’s broad back and hands looped around his waist. He felt as if Totsuka was waiting for him to say something.

“Tatara,” He began, allowing himself to relax. He felt as if the situation merited him using Totsuka’s first name. He felt Totsuka draw back, and for once, turned to face the smaller male. “Let’s go.” And with that he turned around, slowing down ever so slightly so that Totsuka could walk beside him. He needed no reply, no gratitude – the look on Totsuka’s face was more than enough, as it always had been and always would be. 

**~~~**

The day that Tatara Totsuka died, it was just over 8 years after they'd first met properly, and Mikoto Suoh was left with nothing of the brunette except for his camera.

_“No blood! No bone! No ash!”_

Nothing. The word in itself seemed to be a tangible thing, hanging there on the air before him dripping venom. He could see it now, Totsuka’s smile. The one that they’d shared so often, no matter what. He could see it now, that smile, was gone. The blood that had stained Totsuka’s shirt had made its way onto his hands as he’d run his fingers over the cold skin of the body, finding the hole that the bullet had created. Unlike all of those years ago, he couldn’t pay Totsuka back. Nothing he did anymore would ever make any of that right, because Totsuka was _dead,_ dammit, _dead,_ and it was all his fault. He should have told him to be more careful. He should have gone with him like he had before, holding tightly onto Totsuka’s slim-fingered hand to make sure he didn’t go anywhere. Totsuka had never gone anywhere, even 8 years ago he’d never once left Mikoto’s side. But now he’d gone somewhere that was too far for even Mikoto to reach. Everyone had assured him several times over that it wasn’t his fault, except for Izumo. Izumo knew what Mikoto was thinking of.

Because really, Izumo had been right, all those years ago.

_“If you hang around this guy, you’ll end up like this again.”_

But it was worse than that. Tatara’s life had been wasted. All of that love, all of that optimism – it was useless now. In the end it hadn’t saved him. Mikoto cried as he held onto that cold, limp hand.

 _“King is so warm!”_ He remembered Totsuka commenting merrily. He stared at his hand and watched as flames flickered around it, tears rolling down his face as he realised just how useless his powers were. Totsuka had told him that his powers were meant to protect and not to destroy, and yet all he’d done was destroy the one person who had managed to get through to him, the _one person_ that he had shared all of his secrets with, all of his past. The one person that he’d loved beyond the bond of family – he’d failed to protect them. He cried until he felt empty, felt so numb that it was just enough to get him by. He’d loved Totsuka, in the end. That thorn in his side had grown into a beautiful rose, and as roses often did, he’d withered away and died too soon, before the world had gotten to appreciate his beauty and everything he’d had to offer.

The day that Tatara Totsuka died, Mikoto Suoh’s world fell apart.


	2. Never Let Me Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When nightmares plague Mikoto, there is no one there. Until one night, someone is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short little MikoTotsu moment (:  
> A little sad at the end, though.

_‘Do you know, Totsuka? Do you know how much I miss you?’_

**~~~**

The first night M

He was surrounded by flames. Usually, he was safe from fire – it never dared burn him, and he could easily extinguish it as he pleased. But something was different about this fire – it was _burning_ him. He, the Red King, who commanded fire and flames with a single, languid thought, was burning. He cried out as the ravenous fire engulfed him, the flames hungrily lapping at his exposed skin, burning his clothes to ash and spreading around him until he couldn’t see anything apart from the searing flames. But what shocked him the most – it was that he was scared. Beyond that, actually. He was terrified of this feeling of having his skin assaulted by the one thing he tried so hard to constantly control. _‘So, this is how it feels to burn.’_ He thought, his last calm thought before he began screaming. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end! Why was he burning like this? Why… _why?_ It hurt so much…the pain itself was agonising. His mouth formed words, but no sound exited his smoke-torn throat. Wouldn’t somebody help him? Anyone? _‘Anyone at all…’_

He woke up with his chest heaving and limbs trembling, sitting upright with his hands flung over his face. His amber eyes were wide with the pupils dilating, and for a moment he didn’t realise where he was. He was still caught in his nightmare of agony and fire. Processing his thoughts, he slumped back down onto his bed, flinging an arm over his eyes and swallowing. It was another nightmare. _Another._ How many more of them was he going to have? He turned over onto his side, wrapping arms around himself while beginning to stare at the wall pointedly, as if it was the cause of his disrupted sleep. He didn’t want to go back to sleep now – and probably couldn’t, even if he tried. It would be the same as every other nightmare-filled night, where he wouldn’t sleep again after waking up and would be in a foul mood for the rest of the week.

Mikoto had never loathed something so much as the nightmares that dogged him.

He didn’t hear the door open, much less paid any attention to the quiet shuffling of footsteps from the other side of the room. Things that he was usually so aware of melded into hazy background noise, barely distinguishable from the echoes of his screams within his mind. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he only realised that someone else was in the room with him when a pair of gentle arms curled around his waist. Mikoto froze, wondering who it was. It wasn’t Izumo, that was for certain. It wasn’t Anna, as the arms were too long to be hers. But then he remembered when he’d started his third year of high school and someone had raced over to him and had thrown their arms around his waist. Those same arms were encircled around him now, bringing with them a calming aura that blanketed his inner fire calmly and gently. _‘Totsuka.’_ He realised with a jolt, and, with much trepidation, he turned around in the other’s arms to find the brunette looking at him with a small smile and bright brown eyes. For a moment, Mikoto wanted to shove him away. He could hurt Tatara as easy as breathing, and the hobbyist was still so fragile…

“Had a nightmare, King?” Totsuka whispered, smile fading to a look of concern. Mikoto wondered how Tatara knew he’d had a nightmare but dismissed this thought quickly. Of course Totsuka would know. He was weird like that. Mikoto nodded slightly, and Totsuka sighed.

“Want to talk about it?” The teen’s voice grew softer, until it was barely audible. This time, Mikoto shook his head. His nightmares were something he would never share, even with Totsuka. Anna had been the only one to witness them, and that only lessened his desire to share them. Besides, he stayed isolated from anything that involved divulging feelings or personal experiences to someone else. Tatara’s smile returned for a moment and before Mikoto could protest, the teen moved closer to the larger male, resting his head on Mikoto’s chest and curling his arms more securely around the other’s waist. Once more, Mikoto froze. He had never been this close to someone physically before and it was a whole new experience. But…not an unwelcome one. Finally the Red King relaxed, and for once, his face softened as he glanced down at the younger male. He didn’t know how much time had passed – which always seemed to happen to him when he relaxed – he realised that Totsuka had fallen asleep. Mikoto took the opportunity to admire the young man’s relaxed facial features. Totsuka looked so peaceful and calm, as he did when Mikoto had watched him sing outside the bar. He gently ran one of his hands through Totsuka’s hair as he had once wanted to do, and let his hand slip to the back of his Vassal’s head, where he would then cup the back of Totsuka’s head and gently place his lips to the other’s forehead.

“Thank you, Tatara.”

He then wondered what to do with his arms. It would be awkward to leave them by his sides and he couldn’t figure out whether to hold them up or have them together or apart. With a sigh, as his little problem began to occupy his mind as opposed to his previous actions. However, he suddenly got an idea. What if he curled his arms around Totsuka? Could he do that? Would it work? Hesitating once more, never one to rush things, Mikoto wrapped one arm around Totsuka’s waist and then put his other arm under his head so that if he wanted to he could prop himself up slightly to look at the strange young man that was Tatara Totsuka. He was grateful to Totsuka – the other had provided a distraction for him from his nightmares and had offered him comfort as if it was the most natural thing in the world. For someone to do that…well, it was one of the greatest gifts he could ask for.

His amber eyes began to flicker closed, and his head slid off of his arm until his forehead was resting against Tatara’s. Sleep came easily, and this time his sleep was without nightmares – in fact, it was dreamless. Maybe it was the fact that someone was holding him close. Maybe it was that that someone was Tatara Totsuka. But whatever it was, he ended up sleeping through the night and yet Totsuka’s actions that night meant so much more to him. It meant that somebody cared about him, enough to be willing to lose their own sleep and peace of mind to comfort him. And when most people outside of Homra avoided him, and when his own family had dropped contact with him when he was young, it was astounding that he was in a situation such as that one.

**~~~**

When Totsuka woke in the morning he found himself being comfortably and unusually warm. Blinking somewhat blearily, his vision focused on a familiar face very close to his own.  Then he remembered finding Mikoto having a nightmare last night, and the picture of the events only grew clearer. But that didn’t explain why Mikoto had one arm wrapped around his waist and the fact that their foreheads were touching. Totsuka felt heat begin to rush to his face as he realised that he was still curled up against Mikoto, and he grew flustered. He turned away from Mikoto and went to move away from the taller man, but the Red King sighed and Totsuka squeaked in surprise as Mikoto unconsciously drew him back closer to him. Totsuka’s back was pressed against Mikoto’s chest and the King’s arm was now curled protectively around his waist.

How he was going to get out of his King’s grasp, Tatara had no idea.

“King?” He whispered hesitantly.

No response.

“King?” He tried again, raising the volume of his voice. Mikoto only buried his face into Totsuka’s shoulder, still asleep, and Totsuka knew then that his face would be bright red with embarrassment. Sure, he’d always imagined what it would be like to be curled up on a couch or bed with Mikoto, but he’d never actually imagined it happening! He closed his eyes tightly and raised his voice yet again. “King!”

Still nothing.

However, he could detect a difference in Mikoto’s heartbeat. It had begun to speed up, and Totsuka became certain that the other was awake. He formulated a plan that combined revenge with escaping, however he didn’t really think he’d thought it through. Turning around so that he was facing Mikoto again, he quickly pressed his lips to Mikoto’s nose. The effect was immediate – amber eyes snapped open and the fiery, glittering gaze caught and held him. “Hey,” Totsuka murmured, casting his eyes down to his hands, which were now resting on the Red King’s chest. “Good morning, King.”

“Morning, Tatara.”

And at that moment, he wanted to press his heart’s shutter. He wanted to remember the look on Mikoto’s face forever, how content and happy that his King was. He wanted that moment to last forever, being held gently by Mikoto Suoh with the sun gently streaming into the room and caressing their faces.

**~~~**

There was no one there now. No one there to hold him and to banish the nightmares. Totsuka wasn’t there when he woke up in the mornings, and never would be again. Despite the warmth of his fire burning within him, at nights he now felt so cold without his Vassal there beside him.

_‘It hurts so much. Won’t anyone help me?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next will be some angst, probably. For some reason I'm kinda good at that. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this!


	3. Tenth Time Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the time Mikoto Suoh asked Tatara Totsuka out on a date, he'd tried ten times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of threw this together and am not that happy with it, but hopefully the next one will be better.  
> Hope you enjoy!

The first time Mikoto Suoh summoned up the courage to ask Totsuka out on a date, he’d tried 10 times.

The first time was after Totsuka had finished singing for Anna. It was early – or at least, it was for him – and he waited outside Anna’s room, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed and allowing Totsuka’s sweet voice to soothe him. The day had been cold, with a crisp, clear blue sky, and when the sun began to set its departure flooded the sky with shades of pastel pinks, oranges, and purples, before the sky was flushed a burning red. He, Totsuka, Anna and Yata had gone to the local park, sitting together while Anna had looked up at the sky, pointing excitedly as reds and golds danced across the horizon.

“It’s so pretty.” She’d whispered, and Totsuka had grabbed out his camera accordingly, hurrying to film the sunset before it disappeared.

“I’ve filmed it.” He’d told the small girl. “But you clicked your heart’s shutter, I’m sure. Now you’ll always remember it!” She’d turned to look up at him, scarlet-tinted eyes wide.

“Really?” The young Kushina asked quietly, clinging tightly to his hand.

“Really.” Tatara had promised, glancing over at Mikoto. “Isn’t it pretty, King?” Mikoto paused for a moment before nodding, and Yata eagerly rocked back and forth on his feet.

“Geez, it’s not every day that you see something like this! Right, Mikoto?” Watching Yata, Totsuka’s thoughts ran to Fushimi. The kid had been becoming more of a recluse each day, and Tatara was certain that it had to do with the decreasing amount of attention that Yata was paying to him. Anna tugged gently on his hand and he looked down at her, quickly noticing the concern on her small face. He hurried to throw a bright smile onto his face, throwing an arm around Yata’s shoulders and drawing him close so that he could ruffle the younger male’s chestnut-red hair.

“Let’s get back. I’ve got to help Izumo cook again and you know what he’s like if I’m not there to help!” Yata had laughed, and even Mikoto had chuckled. Anna had merely smiled, glad that Totsuka was happy again.

Mikoto smiled at the memory of the afternoon. He’d been formulating a plan to ask Totsuka out, and after a chat with Izumo (whom had simultaneously laid out the rules of dating, played the older brother figure, and told him all of the best places to go with smirk on his face) had worked up the courage to do it. He, Mikoto Suoh, was going to ask his Vassal Tatara Totsuka out on a date. 

 _“Just be yourself,”_ Izumo had told him.  _“Actually no, don’t do that, you’re an asshole.”_ But he’d meant it in a nice way – or at least, not as a complete insult. Mikoto’s eyes knitted together slightly. Wait, no, that had definitely not been meant as a compliment, more as a push to get his shit together and do something right, for once. Hmm. Maybe he should have gone to see Izumo sooner. So there he was, waiting outside Anna's room with his hands clasped together nervously, staring at his shoes. He heard the quiet turn of the doorknob and his head snapped up. He looked over at Totsuka, who was staring at him in surprise.

“King?” Totsuka whispered, closing the door behind him gently. “Are you alright?” Mikoto inhaled deeply. Okay. This was it. This was the moment where he used some actual courage, where he manned up and got off his lazy ass and did something worthwhile.

“Would you - could you –“ No no no, this wasn't going how he'd expected! He could beat people senseless with his bare hands, burn down buildings and give someone a look that would send them off crying but for the life of him he couldn't bring himself to say a simple sentence. “What I mean to say is –“ He couldn't do this, dammit! Not with Totsuka looking at him with those big brown eyes of his, with his hair slightly mussed while looking so inexplicably cute it shouldn’t have been allowed – “Will you…will you…” – not with Totsuka looking at him with that pretty smile, with flushed cheeks and unbuttoned shirt – “What I mean to ask you is if –“ Fuck. _Fuck._ How had Izumo done this many times before? Maybe it got easier the second or third time you asked someone out, but Mikoto couldn’t manage formulate a single word without sounding like he was stumbling over the syllables and choking on the vowels. “Will you sing for me?” There. A not-so-smooth save that prevented the extremely high probability of rejection. The point was though, he hadn’t done and was cursing himself for it.

“Of course, King.” Totsuka replied softly, that gentle smile of his coming to his face.

This time, though, Mikoto doesn’t return it.

How did he ever think that he’d actually had a chance?

The song that Totsuka sung for him was beautiful.

But he still hadn’t asked Totsuka to go on a date with him.

This only made him wonder if that was the world’s way of saying: ‘Fuck you, Mikoto Suoh!’

**~~~**

The eighth time that Mikoto Suoh had tried (and failed) to ask Tatara Totsuka out, he was feeling pretty hopeless.

Ever since that first time he’d attempted to ask his Vassal out on a date, things had been going downhill. Last time he’d tried, in fact, he’d barely tried at all.

“Are you doing anything later?”

Alright. His moment of triumph. Or victory. Or – no, scratch that, this was the moment where he grew a pair.

“No, why?”

This was it.

“You…need to practice some self-defence.” He wanted to punch something. He really was hopeless.

“Sure thing, King! You’re so worried about me all the time. It’s sweet.” At this, Mikoto blinked, and Totsuka turned away and strolled towards the door with a small wave of goodbye.

Maybe he still had a chance.

**~~~**

The tenth time he tried, Mikoto Suoh succeeded. In fact, it was Totsuka’s birthday, and everybody knew what that meant. The 14th of February was about flowers, chocolates, and all things romantic. Usually, Mikoto steered clear of people in general on Valentine’s Day, being the Grinch of the most romantic day of the year, but today he decided he’d be even more lazy and not try at all – he’d lounge around the bar, spreading his failure at romance around the bar until even Anna decided he was being too morbid to be around. His plans were in full swing, in fact, when Totsuka tapped him gently on the shoulder. Mikoto started at the sudden and unexpected contact, unaware that anyone else was in the bar at all. Izumo had dashed off early, muttering something about stocking up on red bean paste, while Yata had dragged Fushimi with him to the park in an attempt to talk to girls, and Anna had gone with Fujishima and Eric to go look at horses at the local ranch. The other clansmen had also gone their own separate ways today, some together, others by themselves, all with laughter while teasing each other about whether they’d managed to get dates or not. And, as per usual, Mikoto had stayed silent.

“Are you alright, King?” Totsuka asked, and Mikoto turned to look at his Vassal in confusion.

“I’m fine. But why are you still here? It’s your birthday, and it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“And?” The brunette asked cheerfully, sliding onto the stool next to Mikoto’s. “I don’t have anyone to spend it with, and I have a feeling that Anna, Fujishima and Eric have planned something.”

“But you always do something.”

“I don’t _always_ have to.” Totsuka replied with a huff, throwing an arm around Mikoto’s shoulders. “But I get to spend the day with you! It’ll be fun.” Turning around to look at his Vassal, Mikoto looked at those warm brown eyes and honest, open face, and felt the warmth of Totsuka’s arm around his shoulders. And, before he could stop himself, he blurted out the request that had been lurking in his thoughts for the past month.

“Go on a date with me. Please?” He watched Tatara with a guarded amber gaze, and for a moment watched as surprise spread across the other’s face. For a moment, Totsuka looked well and truly gobsmacked. He looked as if someone had told him that suddenly Mikoto had grown wings and was wearing a frilly dress. But then a smile spread across Totsuka’s face, huge and ecstatic and bright.

“Of course, King!”

**~~~**

“So,” Mikoto began uncomfortably, glancing over at Totsuka who was practically skipping along beside him. “What do people usually do on dates?” At this, Totsuka laughed.

“You really need an education on this sort of stuff, don’t you? You should have asked Izumo. Too bad he isn’t here now, he’s on a date with Seri.” Hearing this, Mikoto choked on air.

“ _Seri,_ as in _Seri Awashima of Scepter 4?_ ” He asked in bewilderment.

“Yeah, of course! He was telling me all about it the other day. To be honest, it’s about time, really.” As Tatara broke off into his usual excited chatter while Mikoto lapsed into silence, content to simply listen to Totsuka’s voice wash over him. This went on for about ten minutes, before Mikoto felt Totsuka’s hand slip into his. Startled, he glanced over at Totsuka, who was looking back at him silently with a small smile tugging at his lips. Hesitantly, he curled his hand around Totsuka’s smaller ones, and Totsuka entwined their fingers. It was an odd feeling, but not an unwelcome one, he decided. Totsuka’s hand was cool against his, and he found himself relaxing. Totsuka had that effect on him, somehow. Maybe that was why he liked Totsuka so much.

“King is so warm.” The younger of the two murmured, and Mikoto found himself returning the smile offered to him.

**~~~**

They did all manner of things that day, mostly with Totsuka leading around a contentedly-happy Mikoto. Towards the end of the day, the two of them bought ice cream, something that was entirely unfamiliar to Mikoto, and the two of them stopped in the park that Yata and Fushimi had gone to. While Totsuka hopped around, filming and taking photos of the sky, various wildlife, and Mikoto, the latter was staring hard at the ice cream in his hand, eyes narrowed and eyebrows knitted together. Totsuka began to laugh. “King!” He exclaimed through laughter. “It’s melting!”

“Melting…?” Mikoto echoed, eyebrows raising. “Ice cream melts? But it’s cold.” Anyone else would have rolled their eyes and told him to be serious, but Tatara knew better.

“It’s like ice - it does melt. So to stop it from melting, you eat it.”

“Eat it? Okay.” Mikoto bit into the ice cream and the look of surprise on his face as ice cream went all over his face was priceless. He held out his arm, observing the ice cream with narrowed eyes, brows knitted together. “Tatara, I don’t understand how you eat this all the time. How do you manage it?” The only reply he received was laughter. “Hey, what’s so funny?! Totsuka!” At first his annoyance was clear on his face, but as he watched the other doubled over in laughter he sighed and shook his head. At least this time he was the one making Totsuka laugh. However, after five minutes he really didn’t get was so funny. Every time Totsuka looked over at him he burst out laughing until he eventually collapsed onto the nearest park bench, shaking with mirth.

“Oh, King.” He said eventually. “You really need to get out more.” And with a grin he whipped out his camera and began taking snapshots of Mikoto’s bewildered, ice cream-covered face.

And when Yata and Fushimi stumbled across them, not even Mikoto could complain. He’d finally succeeded, after all.

In the morning, when Totsuka stumbled into the bar at half-past-5 in the morning, he found a single rose lying there with an envelope underneath it. Opening it carefully, glancing around the empty bar, Totsuka slid the letter out of the envelope and began to read.

_Totsuka,_

_Four years ago, if someone had told me that the weird kid that stalked the friendless bastard that is Mikoto had gone on a date with him I would have kicked them out of my uncle’s bar and told them that they were severely delusional and I would have laughed in their face. Four years ago, you were, admittedly, a pest. Really, though, you’ve exceeded my expectations. You have a role in Homra that is invaluable, but you’ve also managed to make that friendless bastard seem to be less of an asshole. The rose is from him. I don’t know how you managed to do that, either, because I can’t imagine my childhood friend Mikoto Suoh getting anybody a rose, much less on Valentine’s Day. Thank you, I suppose. Keep doing whatever you’re doing, and soon he’ll be singing Christmas carols in December and dressing up as that strange bearded man on Christmas day._

-          _Izumo_

_P.S. I know you told him about Seri. He was caught between laughing and giving me the cold shoulder._

_P.P.S. You have a charming smile, but that won’t save you from my wrath._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a timeline sorted out for this now, so there won't be as much angst for a while. xD  
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!


	4. Storms Are Your Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikoto is not the only one with nightmares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of fluff mixed with some sads mixed with Izumo grilling Mikoto about his relationship with Homra's cutest hobbyist.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Mikoto was grateful to Totsuka for many things, but the one thing he was probably most grateful for was Totsuka’s company throughout his nightmares and sleep.

Ever since that day when Totsuka had found him having a nightmare and had fallen asleep hugging him, Totsuka had practically moved into the bar, where he slept curled up beside Mikoto or wrapped in the Red King’s arms. And for some reason…whatever it was…Totsuka kept the nightmares away. Totsuka wasn’t particularly warm, not like Mikoto, with his fire raging within him, but if Totsuka wasn’t there for whatever reason, he would always sense the loss of that small amount of warmth and would wake up, looking for his sleeping companion. That had only happened once so far, but Totsuka had only rolled over to the other side of the bed. Sighing, Mikoto had reached out and tugged him back, wrapping his arms around the younger man’s waist and resting his head in the crook of Totsuka’s neck.

However this night, it was the lightning that woke him. Blinking blearily, he realised almost immediately that Totsuka wasn’t beside him. Eyes adjusting to the dim light that the digital clock cast in the room, he searched for Totsuka’s slim frame. Amber eyes narrowing and brows furrowing when he didn’t spot the brunette, he called out, “Totsuka?” There was no answer. He propped himself up on his elbow, wondering where the hobbyist had gone – after all, Totsuka had been there beside him every night for the past two weeks – so why would he go? And where? As another bolt of lightning struck the night, a sickening crack ricocheting through the sky, he huffed in annoyance, realising that he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. Anna and Izumo would be fine, he knew that. Anna could sleep through anything, and it seemed that Izumo did the same – then again, he always wore earplugs to sleep (“Now, Mikoto, I don’t think there’s anything going on but all the same…keep it down.” The barkeep had told him after discovering Totsuka in his room one morning.) and so Mikoto highly doubted that his friend would be woken by the storm.

Swinging his legs over the side of his bed and getting to his feet in one swift, fluid motion, he decided that he’d go look for Totsuka. Maybe the kid had been his usual weird self and had forgotten something back at his apartment and had run home in the rain (however ludicrous it sounded, Totsuka had done it before). A tiny smile tugged at Mikoto’s lips as he thought of the 18-year-old, and he began to make his way downstairs, being careful not to slip down the wooden steps like he had one time. It had ended badly for him, with everyone laughing and Totsuka having to be the one to chide him and fix him up. There was no light in the bar about from moonlight, and Mikoto surveyed it with a frown. Still no Totsuka…maybe he _had_ run home in the rain. The question was though, _why_ , exactly? Why had he left? Why in the middle of the night, without waking him? He exhaled, breath tinged with annoyance, and ran his hand through his messy red locks. He was about to turn to go upstairs when thunder rumbled and in the silence that followed the sky’s ominous rumbling he heard something that sounded like someone whimpering, before a rapid string of whispered sentences, barely audible, but still detectable to the Red King, whose nerves were as taut as a wire stretched to its limits. 

Eyes narrowing, he crept forwards (or as much as he was able with his large and muscular build), and as he got closer to the two couches, the frantic whispering became louder. He couldn’t see anyone on the couch by the window and so dashed around the side of the couch nearest to him to find – “ _Totsuka?_ ” He muttered in disbelief, piercing amber eyes widening. The brunette was curled up on the couch looking nothing short of completely terrified, wrapped in a blanket so that only his pale face was visible.

“H-hey, King.” The greeting sounded weak and Totsuka’s voice held a tremor that made Mikoto stop dead in his tracks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just –“ It was at that moment that another bolt of lightning split the sky in two with its gleaming white fire, and Totsuka’s reaction was immediate. He threw himself down on the couch, covering his ears and hiding his face in the material. And it was then that Mikoto understood. Totsuka was afraid of the storm that was currently raging on outside, filling the already-dark sky with angry clouds that were swollen and bruised. He’d never seen Totsuka afraid. Not even when Mikoto had burnt a building down in front of him or Totsuka’s arm had become encased in Mikoto’s flames for the first time.

At first, the redhead just stood there. What was he meant to do? Tell the other that it would be alright, that it was just a storm? To get over it? That it was a typically-childlike fear? But then he thought about his own nightmares – Totsuka wouldn’t be afraid of them. Maybe storms were Totsuka’s nightmares. Realising that he’d have to do something that he never usually did, he sat down on the couch near Totsuka and stretched out one of his hands so that it was resting on Totsuka’s back. “Tatara…” He began quietly, voice huskier than usual seeing as he’d woken up not long ago. He felt Totsuka’s back stiffen, and knew the reason why – he hardly ever used his Vassal’s first name. “It scares you, doesn’t it? The storm?” It took a few moments, but then Totsuka sat up and turned to face him, usually calm brown eyes wide and filled with dread. The young man hesitated for a moment before licking his dry lips and nodding.

“Y-yeah.” Totsuka began in a whisper. “When…when I…” He seemed reluctant to continue, and kept eying the window, waiting for the next bolt of lightning or crash of thunder to shake the sky and fill him a renewed sense of terror. Mikoto internally groaned and flung an arm around Totsuka’s shoulders, pulling him close so that he was leaning against Mikoto’s chest, nearly sitting on his lap.

“You don’t have to tell me.” The Red King replied, though in reality, he really did want to know. He himself had never been scared of storms, no matter how violent they were, and so the concept of being scared of storms was foreign to him. This drew curiosity from him, though at the same time he wondered if his Vassal had trepidation about telling him. He himself would never choose to disclose any of his fears, even though Tatara and Izumo seemed to have guessed after all the years they’d known him. He turned his attention back to Totsuka, who barely glanced at him before nodding. The silence continued until Totsuka sighed nervously, readjusting his thin frame so that his back was pressed against Mikoto, who in turn rotated slightly so that it was more comfortable for the both of them.

“I…I feel like I need to, though.” Totsuka choked out, feeling as if his throat was clogged by the way he felt the need to spit out the syllables, the words themselves tangling with his shaking breath.  Mikoto noticed that Totsuka’s hands were curled tightly into fists, and he carefully reached out and took one of Totsuka’s hands, holding it gently in his own as if he tightened his grip in the slightest Totsuka would shatter like a piece of fine china. As the brunette began to relax, Mikoto slowly pried open Totsuka’s hand and began rubbing his thumb in slow, gentle circles around the other’s palm. Totsuka inhaled shakily, and Mikoto drew his hand up from the clansmen’s hand to Totsuka’s silky brown hair, and he gently began running his hands through the shoulder-length locks.

“You sure?” Mikoto asked, and for a second there was a trace of concern to his typically monotonous voice. Totsuka simply nodded once again, and the Red King then moved his arm down to Totsuka’s waist so that he could curl said arm around his Vassal’s torso, waiting for Tatara to begin.

“When I was a kid, I was abandoned by my parents. They left me in a park one day and told me that…they told me that I wasn’t going to be staying with them any longer. They were leaving me to fend for myself. They’d never really wanted me at all…” Totsuka forced himself to stare straight ahead, flinching as still more lightning materialised in an impressive display of power. The shorter of the two forced himself to inhale, but it felt as if there was a weight pressing down on him and an iron hand clutching at his gut. “That night…there was a storm.” Totsuka’s voice grew even softer, and Mikoto leaned forwards so that his head was resting on the other man’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to tell me.” He muttered firmly, clenching his jaw as he detected the rapid, fluttering beat of Totsuka’s pulse. “You shouldn’t –“ What was he going to say to Totsuka? Don’t be so open? Don’t be so readable? Once, to be open and honest with someone had led to him getting hurt. Even now he was wary to reveal where he lived. But whether Tatara heard him or not, the Red Clansmen continued, voice louder but rapid – his fear spoke volumes through his mannerisms, and Mikoto wished that he could calm Totsuka like how the latter was able to calm him.

“I was all alone, in that big, empty place, cold and terrified. I’ll never forget how scared I was. I screamed and screamed for someone to help me or for someone to find me, anyone, but no one came. It was the worst feeling in the world, being all alone at there with the storm. It was so huge, and I was so small. I thought it would swallow me whole and that I’d die.” He wrapped his arms around himself, bowing his head as he hunched over. “It sounds stupid, doesn’t it? But now, every time there’s a storm I think of being alone out there and remembering how afraid I was and how useless I really am.” Totsuka laughed bitterly and Mikoto’s heart clenched. “Look at me, such a little coward. No wonder I wasn’t wanted.” He didn’t want to open his eyes, for then the tears that had been building up behind his eyes, hot and stinging, would overflow and stream down his cheeks, betraying just how weak he really was. But it didn’t take long for those tears to stream uncontrollably down his cheeks, and he knew that it was only matter of time before he began to sob. He always did, in the end, when he brought up his past. However, as soon as he finished speaking, Mikoto turned Totsuka around to face him, amber eyes blazing.

“Don’t you _dare_ say that you are useless again.” The Red King spat, quickly filling with rage. How could someone have abandoned their child like that? How had Totsuka survived out there? How could he have let this go unnoticed for so long? “You are far from useless, Tatara. Do you know how much you mean to Homra? To _me?_ You are the only one able to stop my anger, the only one who is able to stop me from becoming the monster that is inside of me. Do you know what that means to me?” Totsuka stared wide-eyed at his King, unable to move. He was trapped in that piercing, fiery gaze, Mikoto’s words echoing through his head. Mikoto hadn’t spoken that much in that amount of time in all the time that Totsuka had known him. Slowly, the Red King relaxed his grip on Totsuka’s shoulders and cupped Totsuka’s chin with one of his large hands. “Don’t cry anymore. Don’t be afraid of the storm. You’re far from a coward, Tatara.” And with that, Mikoto lay back and pulled Totsuka with him, who let out a small squeak of surprise as he was enveloped by his King’s strong arms. “I care about you, Tatara.” The King’s words were whispered, and the Red Clansmen had to strain to hear them. “Don’t forget that.”

“King?” Totsuka whispered, eyes huge. But this time, it wasn’t because of fear. Mikoto…had said that he cared. About him. Tatara Totsuka. That in itself was shocking to him – he knew that his King had at least some interest in him romantically – after all, they’d been on a few dates since then – but he hadn’t thought…he couldn’t help but attempt a smile. He felt safe, being gently held in the Red King’s warm, strong arms. He felt like he belonged more than ever, and even with him getting no answer from the King, he didn’t care. Whether Mikoto Suoh was pretending to be asleep or if he’d actually fallen asleep after speaking mattered not to Tatara Totsuka. “I care about you too, King. I always will.”

**~~~**

Mikoto that Izumo wouldn’t stop pestering him until he told the barman what had happened – after all, it wasn’t every day that he saw Mikoto hugging anyone, much less _smiling_ when he slept. Not that that happened, though. Ever. While Totsuka and Anna dragged a coffee-deprived Yata and unamused Fushimi with them to go and get caffeine and breakfast, Mikoto slid onto his stool at the bar and waited for the inevitable to happen. As expected, it took less than five minutes for Izumo to talk to him after the other Homra members had closed the door behind them. Izumo eventually sighed and leaned forwards, resting his chin on his hand. Eyes narrowed, he began to tap one of his feet against the ground and Mikoto stared levelly back at him with one eyebrow raised.

“Spill.” The barman ordered, and Mikoto wondered if, out of all of them, Izumo would be the one to hold sleep-overs and initiate games of truth or dare. He mentally shrugged. That sounded a lot like Izumo, actually. It was a good thing that he was never invited to parties or anything that so much as sounded social.

“He had a nightmare.” Mikoto replied, beginning to massage his temples as a headache began to poke irritatingly at his head. He was _definitely_ not a morning person, and as he disliked coffee, there was no hope of him getting a caffeine kick to even raise his eyebrows enthusiastically. He glanced up after a moment and saw that Izumo had not moved. If anything, the only thing that had changed about his friend was the look of ‘you can’t be serious’ that was now on the older man’s face. “What?” Mikoto grumbled, wishing that Totsuka, Anna and the others would hurry up and return.

“That’s what happened?” Izumo didn’t sound too convinced.

“Yes.”

“ _Tatara_ had a _nightmare_ and that’s why you were both on my couch in the morning?”

“Yes.”

“That’s _really_ what happened?”

“Yes.”

“ _Seriously?_ That's the only thing that happened?!"

“Yes.”

“Mikoto, even an antisocial asshole like you should be able to make a move after _two months_ of dating!” The barkeep huffed, straightening up only to cross his arms over his chest.

“I don’t know what you’re –"

“ _Oh my god, don’t tell me you haven’t even –"_

“He hasn’t what, Kusanagi?” Yata asked enthusiastically, bounding into the bar with a grin. Izumo shot him a mock glare, and Mikoto breathed an inaudible sigh of relief and thanked coffee for sending Yata back to the bar just in time to stop Izumo from continuing to criticize his lack of imagination and experience, all the while firing questions he would prefer to take drinking wine over answering - alcohol was yet another beverage that didn't appeal to him in the slightest. 

"King, Izumo, we're back!" The familiar and chirpy greeting sounded a few moments later and Mikoto turned to glance over his shoulder at Totsuka. The hobbyist looked exhausted and paler than usual, and his movements were slower than his usually fast-paced way of moving. Now that he saw the effects that a lack of sleep had on Tatara, he noted that over the years he'd seen his Vassal in a similar condition quite a few times. Clenching his jaw as he remembered Totsuka's terror-filled eyes from the storm-filled night, he offered Totsuka and Anna a small nod and beckoned the brunette over to him. A smile lighting up the hobbyist's face, Tatara simply walked over to him, hands dug into his pockets. Izumo clucked his tongue and gave Tatara a smile and the two exchanged greetings before Yata and Izumo began whispering in a corner of the room. Mikoto couldn't care. Looking over at the exhausted young man, Mikoto wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around the slim brunette and hold him close. But of course, he couldn't do that. No, he wouldn't. He didn't know how Totsuka would feel about it, and besides, Izumo and Yata would instantly dash over to them and start annoying him with irrelevant and pointless questions.

"Totsuka," Mikoto stared at the row of bottles that lined the bar's eastern wall. "Are you...alright?" There was no answer until Mikoto heard a soft laugh, and turned to see Totsuka smiling with not happiness, but relief.

"Don't sweat it. It'll all work out, somehow. It always does, after all." Totsuka shuffled closer to Mikoto and leaned slightly so that his face was close to his King's. "But to be honest, I thought after I told you about...y' know, why I don't like storms...I thought you wouldn't want to be around me. But here you are, talking to me! I know everything will work out now." The thinly-framed brunette explained, straightening up and beginning to walk away before Mikoto could stop him. He watched Totsuka with heavy-lidded amber eyes, wondering how Totsuka was still so carefree. 

"What an idiot." He muttered with a sigh, running a hand through his mussed red hair. He heard a soft, quiet sound, something that sounded almost like a laugh. But it was more high-pitched than he would have expected - glancing down, he spotted Anna looking up at him with a tiny smile on her face. "Did you just laugh?" He asked her curiously, raising one eyebrow halfheartedly. Solemnly, Anna shook her head and trotted off after Tatara. Mikoto shook his head in disbelief and went back to massaging his temples. This whole situation with Totsuka was proving to become more complicated and confusing with every passing moment. 

It was at that moment he saw a determined-looking Izumo and a goofily-grinning Yata marching over to him.

He tried to run before they cornered him.

He really did try.

But it was too late. As the pair's mindless chatter began to plague him he looked over at Tatara imploringly, the latter only gazed back innocently at him and, with an uncharacteristically evil, wicked smile, pulled out his camera. Mikoto gave him a mock glare and resisted the temptation to slam Izumo and Yata into each other.

Mikoto had never been a morning person. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The next one will be Christmas-themed. (:


	5. Merry Christmas, Love Satan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Homra's first Christmas, and Tatara is in his element. Whereas Mikoto...not so much. Luckily he has Satan Kusanagi and trusty elf Yata, along with the angel Anna, to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more rushed and a little later than I would have liked, but at least I still posted it on Christmas. Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope you enjoy this. (:

The day of Homra’s first Christmas was clear and full of sunshine, carefree and bright, like Totsuka Tatara’s spirit.

Usually they didn’t do anything for Christmas, so Totsuka didn’t count their previous December 25th’s as actual Christmases. But this year, he’d been determined to do something about it. Seeing as Mikoto hadn’t been a complete Grinch on Valentine’s Day, the brunette had wondered if he could maybe, just maybe, get Mikoto to seem actually _happy_ during December about the holiday season. On the first day of December Mikoto had trudged downstairs, blinking blearily while wondering if maybe he should try coffee again, and in an instant Totsuka had jumped up from the floor to stand a few inches away from him.

“King!” The hobbyist had cheered. “You’re just in time!” Then he’d grabbed Mikoto’s hand and had tugged him out of the door, only pausing for the taller man to grab his coat. Thinking over it later, Mikoto wondered why on Earth he hadn’t refused. It had barely passed 8am and he and Totsuka had been outside of a shop decorated with lights and tinsel. Mikoto had attempted to raise a single eyebrow. Yep. _‘It’s too early to be out here._ ’ He internally grumbled, before casting an irritated look towards his Vassal.  “Ready to get the festivities rolling?” Totsuka had asked, and bewilderment had flickered over the Red King’s face. Festivities…?

Four hours later they’d returned with nearly ten bags of sizable Christmas decorations, Christmas costumes, recipe books, various pieces of food, and a receipt for a Christmas tree that they’d go and pick up later. Really, Mikoto didn’t know what had happened, except he’d been left holding most of the bags and Totsuka had been practically _glowing_ beside him, with a beaming smile and a skip in his step.

He’d blamed smiling on it being still too early in the morning. Even though it had been midday, you never could trust yourself until it was 3pm. Right?

By December 7th, the Christmas tree had gone up, with everyone surprisingly eager to help (except for Mikoto which was unsurprisingly indifferent towards the whole thing). Totsuka had made sure to get mostly red things – red Christmas tree lights, red baubles, red-striped candy canes – even the star at the top of the tree had been red, with Anna being lifted up by Totsuka so that she could perch it on the uppermost branch. Everyone had donned Christmas hats, even Fushimi, and by the 10th of December, even Mikoto had been wearing one (he swore that it had by no means been his own doing). To Totsuka, with each day that passed everything grew more and more perfect. He’d never really had a proper Christmas before – his biological parents had abandoned him, after all, and his adopted father had always been skint or spent money on alcohol, spending most of December like he did every day: so drunk that he could barely think straight, if at all. Totsuka hadn’t minded. He’d spend hours at a day wondering through town, peering excitedly into windows and viewing displays with glee, watching families go out together and look at the Christmas firework display, drinking it all in so that one day, when he had a proper family of his own, they could have a Christmas together.

Of course, the bar itself was a mess, with the decorations askew and the tree slightly crooked, but Totsuka didn’t mind. What mattered was that for the first time in his whole life, he got to have a Christmas and spend it with the people he cared about – Mikoto included. To anyone else, it mightn’t have been viewed as the perfect Christmas (the Homra gang was typically considered ruffians or violent delinquents that didn’t know anything about giving or receiving anything other than punches) but to Tatara Totsuka, it was just possibly the greatest thing in the entire world.

**~~~**

It was December 24th, and Tatara Totsuka was rocking back and forth on his heels, barely able to contain his excitement.

Most of those in Homra had gone home not too long ago, with promises to be back before 9am the next day. Totsuka, Mikoto, Izumo, Anna, Yamamoto and Yata remained, but it was enough for the sparkling-eyed brunette who was dressed in festive Christmas colours, with a santa hat perched upon his head and a smile so wide it made his cheeks hurt. Only Anna, Yamamoto, Tatara and Mikoto remained in the room, with Izumo and Yata having made some hurried excuses to have to go and get some food. Anna was perched on the edge of the couch, clad in a pretty scarlet dress with a white trim, with a pair of softly-feathered wings and a halo attached to a headband. The Angel Anna, Totsuka had said. The girl smiled to herself, gently beginning to fiddle with the edge of her dress before looking over at Tatara. She loved how happy he was, how genuinely ecstatic he was to have them all at Homra participating in the festive holiday he’d called ‘Christmas’.

It was still a foreign term to the young Strain, but she’d grown to like the idea of it, especially more so after witnessing Totsuka’s sheer joy that had only grown in leaps and bounds throughout the month. Suddenly, there was the distinct sound of boots against the floor and she immediately glanced over towards the source of the sound. Standing there before them was a tall man with a rounded belly, dressed in red and white, with a sack thrown over his shoulder and a fluffy beard. Anna’s eyes narrowed. He had a red aura similar to that of Izumo’s…but Izumo didn’t look like that.

“Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas! I’m Satan, here to deliver gifts to all the good children of the world!” It was good. Izumo’s voice had deepened and the second-in-command had made his voice scratchy and rough. He certainly looked the part. And yet, Mikoto actually started _laughing_ while Totsuka could do nothing but bring his palm to his face.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, Satan?” Mikoto asked innocently, glancing over at Totsuka with a flicker of amusement sparking in his piercing amber eyes. Of course he hadn’t missed how much the brunette had stressed over this particular tradition, and he actually found it funny how badly Izumo had gotten it wrong (but he also blamed his laughter on the alcohol that he’d unwillingly consumed).

“And I’m his trusty elf!” Yata bounded in then, also dressed in red, drawing himself up to his full height and puffing his chest out. Yata wore a hat with a pair of pointy ears attached to it, and yet his mess of auburn hair still managed to escape the hat and disobey his wishes for it to lie flat. Totsuka looked over towards Anna, and relaxed as he saw a small smile tugging at her lips. Oh well.

Nothing was ever perfect right?

Santa Kusanagi (or Satan, as the six of them had taken to calling him) had emptied out his sack of presents, and Yata had arranged them under the Christmas tree. They’d sung carols (Tatara’s greatest achievement of the night was when he fell onto Mikoto’s lap and kept poking the Red King’s face until the redhead sang the chorus of ‘Jingle Bells’), while Yata had belted out every Christmas song he could think of with the gusto that was expected of his vibrant personality. They’d poked fun at Mikoto’s laziness and Rikio’s well-rounded belly, with Satan Kusanagi commenting on how the younger man could have been a passable Satan himself (by this time Totsuka had given up all hope of correcting them and let them think that Satan was the name given to the white-bearded man that visited houses on Christmas Eve night). Totsuka filmed countless Christmas moments and snapped as many pictures as he could before his index finger grew weary from clicking the button that would close the camera’s shutter so many times.

But, three hours later, Satan Kusanagi, elf Yata, and Angel Anna were conversing softly in a corner of the room. Though Anna stayed silent, as she usually did, it was clear that she was participating in the conversation.

Mikoto’s trepidation only grew. He had a sneaking suspicion of what the three of them were planning – no doubt Izumo would spill his secret plans that he hadn’t really intended on acting upon.

**~~~**

Tatara Totsuka’s first kiss under the mistletoe was sweet and lingering, tinged with warm and brilliant flames and a stirring of his heart within his chest.

As per usual, Totsuka was tucking Anna into her bed. “Tatara?” Anna whispered another hour later, blinking sleepily. He gently tucked a lock of her long white hair behind one of her ears and smiled down at her.  
“Yes, Anna?”

“I…had fun tonight.” The young girl told him, curling up under the covers and yawning. It was clear that she wouldn’t be able to keep her scarlet-hued eyes open for much longer, but she did her best to stay awake. Christmas…she liked it. It was full of red, with the colour being everywhere, and smiles. Totsuka smiled more than ever, Izumo and Yata smiled – even Fushimi had grudgingly smiled at one point. Even Mikoto Suoh, the Red King, had smiled – _laughed,_ even. That was just about as likely as Tatara going and willingly starting a fight and then succeeding. Anna had always known that Totsuka had been different from everyone and really, it wasn’t that hard to see. But it was the way everyone was so gentle with him, even the Red King, that really caught her attention. They needed Totsuka just as much as he needed them, and as much as his weaknesses had the potential to place them at severe disadvantages, they still kept Tatara around – and gladly so. They were so careful around him, when they were usually so rough around each other. Especially…Mikoto. Anna smiled internally as she thought of the conversation she, Satan and the elf had had. Satan…she wondered if the red-clad man would visit the bar tonight, leaving more gifts. That’s what he’d told her, anyway, and his elf had reassured her of that.

“I’m glad.” The brunette whispered in response.

“Satan will come tonight, won’t he?” Anna breathed hopefully, struggling to keep her eyes open to look at Totsuka. For a moment, the Red King’s Vassal looked as if he were about burst out laughing, but managed to regain control of his expression and simply nodded.

“Of course he will, Anna. Sleep well.”

“Mikoto…wants to tell you…Merry Christmas…” And with that she fell asleep, head pillowed on her pale hands with a tiny smile gracing her face. Standing up, a fond look settled upon Totsuka’s face.

“Merry Christmas, Anna.”

Closing the door behind him, he looked to the left, like he had gotten into the habit of doing, and as he expected, the Red King was leaning idly against the wall a metre away. “Hello, King.” The brunette murmured, expecting a shrug or nod in response. Instead, Mikoto grabbed his hand and dragged him down the hallway, leaving Totsuka unsure of whether to be bemused or nervous. “Hey, where are we going?” The brunette asked, to the usual response: silence.

But he trusted Mikoto – maybe too much, as he let his King lead him outside into the cold December night, down several streets that he barely knew the names of, and up several flights of stairs. He’d tried asking where they were going several times but he hadn’t received an answer. _‘Typical King.’_ It was then that Mikoto opened a door that lead to a rooftop, and Totsuka stopped and stared.

Underneath the star-spangled sky was a picturesque scene that not even he could have imagined. Red Christmas lights were strung up everywhere, illuminating the rooftop with a gentle glow that reminded him of his own pretty yet weak flames. There were potted poinsettia plants dotted around the rooftop and in front of them was a picnic blanket that was heaped with pillows and blankets. But the next thing he knew, Mikoto’s hands were on his shoulders and he was being spun around to face that Red King, whose face wore such a look of determination that Totsuka could only gape. That was when one of Mikoto’s hands slipped off of his shoulder and slipped underneath his chin, gently closing his mouth and tilting his chin upwards.

Before Totsuka could protest – not that he wanted to, anyway – Mikoto’s lips met his. The Red King’s lips were warm and dry and slightly chapped, but that in itself mattered less than anything else in that moment. Mikoto was kissing him. _Him._ Tatara Totsuka. The brunette reached up and curled his arms around his King’s shoulders, deepening the kiss. Warmth spread from his lips to his chest and ran down his back and legs until even his toes were warm. He’d wanted to kiss Mikoto for so long – months, actually, and yet now that it was happening, it wasn’t even _him_ that had kissed Mikoto – it was the latter. His heartbeat grew louder in his ears, drowning out everything else but the man before him.

He barely noticed the flames he was releasing, didn’t stop to look at the heated ball of energy as it began to take shape. Delicate legs and a slender neck rose from the shapeless mass of flames as delicately-feathered wings of pure red fire unfurled themselves, throwing sparks into the nearby vicinity (thankfully there was no real fire hazard) and he didn’t know that the phoenix he’d unknowingly created had taken flight until he realised that they’d broken apart and that Mikoto was holding him close, as close as he did while they were sleeping. In sleep, Mikoto unconsciously reached out for Totsuka, while when he was awake he would struggle to so much as reach for the other’s hand. Tatara’s brown eyes widened as he felt Mikoto’s arms being wrapped securely around his waist.

“You used too much of your power in one go.” The King muttered, still reluctant to let go of the shorter man. “The mistletoe is from Izumo, Yata, and Anna.”

“King…did you really do all of this for me?” Tatara inquired softly, relaxing into the embrace. Mikoto shrugged lightly, and an ebullient yet weary grin spread across the brunette’s face. “This is the best Christmas ever.”

“This is your _only_ Christmas ever.”

“Don’t be like that, King, or else you’ll find out _why_ Satan fell from Heaven.” A glint lit Totsuka’s eyes as the phoenix landed on Mikoto’s shoulder, only to burn out and extinguish itself moments later. Mikoto knew that eventually he’d have to let go of Totsuka and see if they would stay on the rooftop or go back to the bar, but he didn’t want to let go of the brunette, the one who represented his sanity and stability. The only one, along with Izumo, that he would trust with anything. The only one that could chase the nightmares away and guard his sleep. There was so much he wanted to say to Totsuka, but try as he might, he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Instead he gently pressed his lips to his Vassal’s forehead and allowed himself to smile, even if it was only for Totsuka.

“Tatara.”

“Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas.”

Even though he’d never celebrated Christmas before that day, it would remain the most memorable Christmas to him. It was the Christmas that he’d kissed Tatara Totsuka and was one step closer to finishing what he’d been wanting to do for the past few months. Thanks to Izumo’s persistence, Yata’s enthusiasm, and Anna’s eye for decoration, Mikoto, the typical Grinch of Christmas, was smiling. And it was thanks to their teamwork and Mikoto’s newfound courage that Totsuka received not one, but several kisses from under the mistletoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be reading through this again and editing it/swapping some parts around/adding in new parts, as right now it seems a bit confusing, jumping from one thing to the next with no set plotline.  
> Find me on tumblr [here.](http://truthyyy.tumblr.com)  
> Thanks for reading!


	6. 'Romantic Tension'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In where Seri meets Totsuka and discovers a new bargaining point and Izumo is an actual shipping nerd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *screams into the void* THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR MONTHS NOOOO. I had to reread the whole thing to finish this chapter and the next one and I am…ashamed…it’s so bad…there’s so many mistakes…whyyyyyyyyyy. I honestly don’t know what the point of this chapter is but here it is anyway. I wanted to add seri in somehow :’) it’s been AGES since I’ve written something to do with the k universe so this probably sucks and is completely out of character but I am determined to finish it! Also shoutout to @tsukiyamazing whose comments got me to actually write this again :DDDD  
> if you wanna scream about mikototsu stuff with me you can find me on tumblr @kingofrei hehe

_And I told you to be patient,_   
_And I told you to be fine,_   
_And I told you to be balanced,_   
_And I told you to be kind_

* * *

 

“I just don’t know what I should do!”

“Mhmm.”

“He still hasn’t made a move yet. Since _February.”_

“Oh dear.”

“I know Tatara left for a bit but still…”

“Yeah.”

“That’s no excuse for him. He’s a _King;_ he should have a least a _little_ courage.”

“True.”

“Are you even listening to me, Seri-chan?” There was a soft sigh and a clink as Seri Awashima, second-in-command of Scepter 4, put her wine glass down on the table. She’d come at Izumo’s request, expecting to have a drink and have a chat in the now-calm bar. Then they’d go out to dinner together and head back to their respective dwellings in the early hours of the morning. But instead, it seemed tonight Izumo was going to be distracted with matters concerning the Red King and a kid named Tatara Totsuka. She watched Izumo for a few moments, head tilted slightly to one side as she watched him huff and begin to mix her another drink. It was strange to see Izumo acting so carelessly when he was usually so guarded. No, that wasn’t the right word. Izumo was usually suave and impressionable, and now it seemed he had a softer side. _‘So,’_ The Blue King’s right-hand mused. _‘He is a dork._ ’ A smile tugged at her lips and she reached over and gently grabbed the barman’s wrist.

“Of course I’m listening.” She told him, dropping her hand and reaching up to flick his nose. It was a little habit she’d developed whenever she thought he was being idiotic, and he’d long ago caught onto the meaning of it. “Look, I don’t see why you need to care, anyway. It’s their relationship, it’s not like it’s affecting you.” At this, Izumo groaned.

“Seri-chan, I wish that were so. But the thing is, it _is_ affecting me. The romantic tension is suffocating –“ Seri choked on the air she’d just inhaled. _Romantic tension?_ Had he really _just…?_ Besides, trying to imagine the Red King Mikoto Suoh tangling with romance was something that she never wanted to consider, lest it ended up haunting her dreams (it was that frightful in her mind). “And whenever I try to have a conversation with Mikoto, he’s always looking at Tatara, and whenever I’m trying to have a conversation with Tatara, he’s grinning over at Mikoto. Not only is it annoying, but it’s getting worse! I’m lucky to get the bar empty for so much as five minutes now – the kid’s moved in, now, and wherever he goes, Mikoto isn’t far behind, and vice versa.” Realising how much he sounded like a whiny toddler he ran a hand through his messy blonde locks and sighed. Seri was desperately trying not to laugh, and looked down at her hands. But soon enough, laughter broke free from her throat and the rare, melodic sound echoed around the now-quiet bar. Izumo found himself smiling, even. “Seri-chan, you should laugh more often.” He told her, and to this she glanced away and her laughter ceased. A light blush dusted her cheeks, and she took the opportunity to reign in her thoughts and so that she could set Izumo’s mind at ease so that they could leave the bar sooner.

“It sounds to me like you’re also rooting for them, but no matter. You mentioned the Red King’s Vassal left?” She asked, watching Izumo carefully with her bright blue eyes.

“Yeah. It was in early May, I think, after he’d practically moved in. He got into a brawl, and broke an arm. Mikoto burned everything, we were lucky Scepter4 didn’t show up, and all in all, it was a disaster. Totsuka had his bags packed the next day. He looked…” Izumo thought about this for a moment. “Sad.” At this, Seri’s interest was perked.

“But…that makes no sense. He got his arm broken – wouldn’t he be angry, as opposed to anything else?”

“If it were anyone else in HOMRA, I’d agree with you. But you don’t know Tatara. The kid’s rarely sad – if ever. He’s never cried in all the time that I’ve known him – at least, that I’ve known about. But see, he’s the weakest in HOMRA.” Seri raised an eyebrow. Someone in HOMRA, weak, and being sad instead of angry at an injury. Honestly, it didn’t add up in her mind.

“Why make the weakest Clansmen your Vassal? If there’s something going on between them, I could see why, but if my partner was weak I wouldn’t give them a job that practically entitles them to getting hurt.”

“It’s complicated.”

“ _Everything_ to do with the infamous Red King is, seemingly.” Seri sighed, settling back in her chair. “Alright, so go on. This kid sounds like a weirdo, if you ask me.” But her smile was back. This Tatara guy sure sounded interesting. Maybe she’d tell Munakata – Suoh’s Vassal seemed like he was more approachable than everyone else in HOMRA, save for Izumo. That could work in Scepter4’s favour, if they had to deal with the Red King or HOMRA in the future. But Izumo was still lamenting over the situation, so she went back to watching him with amusement.

“…And sure, he’s spontaneous, but he told us he was leaving for a few weeks. Just out of the blue, he decided he’d go and travel for six weeks. Only when six weeks rolled around, he didn’t come back. He called us and said travel for a month or so more. He sent us postcards and called us every few days if he was able to but it was…different. Every message was either muted and quiet or overbright and way too happy. It wasn’t like him.” He stopped for a moment, he glanced down at Seri. “I should probably stop now –“

“No.” The lieutenant told him, intrigued. Seri couldn’t resist the call of a good mystery, whenever one happened to arise. And if she could wangle a bargaining point with Suoh, all the better… “Go on. This might explain a lot.” Screw their date. That could wait. Izumo shrugged and watched her curiously, before deciding to continue.

“Mikoto was different while Tatara was away. He stopped being as social – not that he ever was in the first place – and eventually I had to take the door off of his room because he kept burning it down.” Seri’s eyes widened at this (so the rumours were true), but Izumo continued on hurriedly. “He’d really only talk to Anna and me. I have a feeling he knew that something was wrong with Tatara and he was angry that he couldn’t do anything about it. Totsuka came back about three months ago. In some ways he seemed to be in a worse condition than when he’d left, and in other ways he seemed to be in a better condition than what he had been.”

“Spilling all of my secrets, are you?” Someone laughed jovially. Izumo and Seri both turned sharply towards the source of his voice, and saw Totsuka’s head poking over the side of the couch. “You’re here?” Izumo gaped. “Of course! This is where I have my afternoon nap, and I must’ve slept longer than I thought.” The hobbyist explained. “Hello, Awashima-san! Are you having a nice time in our humble headquarters?” There was no spite in his voice, at most a slight teasing lilt, and his doe-like brown eyes were twinkling as though he knew the punchline to an extremely funny joke that no one else could figure out.

“How long…have you been…listening?” Seri asked, blue gaze flicking over to Izumo, who returned her helpless look with one of his own.

“Not for too long. Mikoto’s door is fixed, by the way.” Seri now gave the brunette her full attention. So this was Suoh’s Vassal. At once, she understood why he was so influential in HOMRA. He was the exact opposite of the Red King. The two must have been like…yin and yang. “It’s nice to meet you, Totsuka-san.” She replied, returning his grin.


	7. Wait for me One Last Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip down memory lane leads Mikoto Suoh to make a decision that ends in his death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cackles* nearly 5000 words!!!!! WOW okay so this is the last chapter, though I could’ve split this into 2 chapters I guess :00 I apologise for all the flashbacks, I really do. I saw a chance to go down memory lane and do some more mikototsu pre-relationship stuff and I did it. The first part is basically just the first chapter again, I guess?? So sorry about that and pls don’t eat me ;-; but the second part is mikoto’s death and this is so bad and I’m rambling but I hope you cry. Even a little. Because i am a horrible person who may or may not have made a frozen reference in mikotos death scene *sweats*

_And now all your love is wasted_  
_then who the hell was I?_  
_Cause now I’m breaking at the britches,_  
_At the end of all your lines._

* * *

 

The night Tatara was brought home one last time, he was smiling.

The Vassal had died with a smile on his face.

 _‘Brat. How…how could you smile at a time like this?’_ Mikoto closed his eyes and leaned his head back, golden eyes squeezed tightly shut as memories played like a movie through his mind. He was alone in his room, the others having gone their own ways to grieve. Besides, the power radiating from Mikoto could prove fatal for them. Without Tatara to soothe his fury he was left sinking in his fire. Many considered Totsuka a lion tamer, and Mikoto the feisty lion, but for Mikoto, Tatara was more of…a lifeline. An anchor. To reality, to normality, to sanity. He was the one to coax Mikoto to the surface for air. The one…who had kept him alive.

As he glanced back down at Tatara’s smile, now frozen on his face until he would be cremated in HOMRA style, made him think of those rare times when Tatara hadn’t smiled. Those rare times had been the start of the Red King’s (then a high school student when he’d met Tatara) protectiveness over his Vassal.

There was one time particularly vivid for him.

 _Tatara had met them at school one day with his clothes looking particularly wrinkled. His hair was decidedly more tousled than usual and he had dark smudges under his eyes that almost resembled bruises. His smile seemed plastic and fake, and Mikoto was instantly suspicious._  
_“Did you go home last night?” He’d rumbled, eyes narrowed at the younger teen. Totsuka had merely laughed, the fool._  
 _“Of course, King! Don’t be silly. Why wouldn’t I go home?” At lunch, Totsuka had made excuses that he had an assignment due and he needed to go and hand it in. Izumo had waited before he’d left before clicking his tongue and glancing over at Mikoto._  
 _“The kid’s lying.” Izumo had sighed. “He comes to me whenever he has an assignment due and he hasn’t mentioned it at all.” Mikoto growled at this and had stared after Tatara as he disappeared from view._

 _That afternoon, Mikoto and Izumo had offered to walk Tatara home. When he would usually have jumped at the very idea, eyes huge and bright and smile making something in Mikoto’s chest tight, he looked uncharacteristically worried.  
“No, no! You don’t need to that!”  
“Too bad.” Mikoto had grunted, cuffing him. Instantly lapsing into complaints, Tatara had seemed to realise that there was nothing to do but let them walk him home. It took less than an hour to reach Totsuka’s place. As the decrepit apartment building came into view, Izumo looked like he’d swallowed a lemon and Mikoto clenched his fists. Something was…_ off _. But Tatara took off at a run, dashing up three flights of stairs with the speed of a startled rabbit. Exchanging glances, Mikoto and Izumo sprinted after him. When they reached him the third floor, they saw him speaking rapidly into the letterbox._  
 _“Something wrong?” Izumo inquired, and Totsuka froze as he spotted them._  
_“N-no. I just…forgot my keys!” He laughed then, shakily, with another of those artificial smiles that made Mikoto want to shake him. “Silly me.”_  
 _“Who were you talking to?” Mikoto demanded, ignoring the warning look Izumo had shot him._  
 _“My – my cat.” Tatara had always been a horrible liar – or at least, to Mikoto he had been. Mikoto stalked over to him and stuck a hand into his pocket, instantly latching onto a set of keys. Totsuka gulped as Mikoto withdrew his hand, with the keys dangling from his calloused fingers. Before Tatara or Izumo could stop him, he’d thrown the largest key into the lock, turned it, and flung the now unlocked door open._

 _He heard Totsuka moan and glanced over his shoulder to see the brunette burying his face in his hands. Honestly, this display of vulnerability and despair scared Mikoto. This – this wasn’t the brat that followed him around everywhere, that clung to him for warmth, who could draw a smile from him when no one else could. It was a side of Tatara that he never wanted to see again. It was this sight that brought rage to him in a fiery torrent. Stepping inside, ignoring Izumo’s frustrated cries of “You idiot, Mikoto! Stop!” he immediately locked his amber gaze on the dirty, drunk man leaning against the wall for support. So…this was Tatara’s father. Mikoto felt his rage increase tenfold.  
“So you’re the bastard that kicked Tatara out.” He growled, eyes flashing.  
“Totsuka –“ the redhead clenched his hands into fists at these words. The asshole addressed his own son by his last name? Pathetic. Mikoto despised him more with every passing second. “- who is this guy?” His words were slurred, and a split second later, Tatara darted past Mikoto towards his adopted father, going to support him.  
“A friend of mine.” He whispered, casting a desperate glance over his shoulder. “Go, King, take Izumo and go, _ please _–“  
“A _ friend?! _” Harsh, howling laughter broke forth from the alcoholic. “You must be joking. You don’t have friends. Someone like_ you _doesn’t have_ friends. _Besides, who’d want to hang around_ you? _” He drew breath for more laughter but before another trace of mirth could pass his thin lips, Mikoto had reached past Tatara, grabbed his father by the collar and slammed him into the adjacent wall with the force of a small truck._

 _“Don’t speak to him like that.” Mikoto roared, eyes no doubt slits of amber fire. By then Izumo had run in, grabbing at the redhead’s arm, trying to pull him off of Tatara’s father. “How he puts up with you is shocking.” Despite Mikoto wanting to give the guy a good verbal lashing, he was desperate for his fist to connect with the bastard’s face, hear a satisfying_ crunch _as he broke the latter’s nose, hear him scream apologies to Tatara -_  
_“King!” Mikoto paused as Tatara’s desperate voice broke through his fury. “King, please don’t.”_  
 _“He deserves it.” The redhead spat over his shoulder, voice filled with disgust._  
 _“King, don’t hurt anyone for me.” Mikoto’s hold on his to-be victim loosened._  
 _“What.” He stated bluntly. Don’t…don’t hurt the guy who caused him pain? Don’t get revenge? Mikoto couldn’t make sense of it. He couldn’t understand what Tatara was playing at._  
 _“He isn’t worth it, King. He isn’t worth your time.” At this, a cry of anger left the older Totsuka. Izumo held his breath, eyes wide. He’d never seen Mikoto back down before – at least, not without force. Had Tatara’s words gotten through to his friend? It seemed like they had – Mikoto relinquished his hold on Tatara’s father and he took a step back. Tatara shot Mikoto the most genuine smile he’d seen all day, and Mikoto allowed himself to relax slightly. Totsuka would be fine now, after all…Mikoto knew that he and Izumo would take care of the young brunette. They couldn’t let something like this happen again._

 _“Why, you little brat – how dare you let these vagabonds in?!” Tatara’s father clearly hadn’t gotten the message and he staggered forwards, making a swing at the defenceless Tatara, fist making contact with his adopted son’s face. The brunette only winced as his head snapped sideways at the vicious blow, but it seemed that he was used to this. Mikoto’s fury, which had only just been curbed, broke free of its restraints. Even calm Izumo started forwards, face twisted in anger. Izumo kneed the gambler in the stomach, winding him, and Mikoto socked him in the nose – once, twice, thrice – Tatara had to avert his gaze, trembling._  
_“I’m the only one who can call him that.” The redhead muttered, leaving the adult to slide down the wall, unconscious. And with that, Mikoto turned on his heel and left, blood on his knuckles. He halted in the doorway, and appeared to be in deep thought for a moment. “Let’s go, Tatara. Izumo…” Mikoto shrugged his shoulders, but the hidden meaning in the gesture caused Izumo to smile._  
 _“You got it, Mikoto. Go and get Tatara cleaned up, alright?”_

Mikoto clenched his fists and without warning, whirled around and slammed a fist into the wall, abruptly cutting off the memory before _his_ voice would sound through his ears again, endless apologies and words of gratitude spilling from his lips, before he could see that beautiful smile once more. That’d been after the young brunette had entered Izumo’s bar for the first time, when he’d been going through a rough stage. Tatara…he’d had such a hard time as a kid, without any of them knowing. The brunette had told him that after meeting him and Izumo, things had picked up. But it didn’t make Mikoto feel any better now, knowing that Totsuka hadn’t had the life he’d deserved. Still, the Vassal had refused to let his past affect him, and had lived life his way. Tatara had left a trace of himself with all of HOMRA, and right now, the hold that the brunette had on him was causing him agony. Why, _why_ , for the love of any god that was there to his plea, couldn’t he have just remained indifferent? Why had he allowed Tatara to get close to him? Why hadn’t anyone stopped him – no, why hadn’t he stopped himself? He should have remained coldhearted, or at least unfeeling, like he’d planned to do for the whole of his miserable life.

_“King, am I coldhearted?”_

Mikoto froze as yet another memory reared its head. No, _no_ , not this one. This memory, it would hurt more than the previous one had to relive. “Don’t call me that.” Mikoto whispered, trembling. “Don’t call me ‘King’. It got you killed. Remember? You wouldn’t be like this if I wasn’t…if you hadn’t…followed me around.” But it was no use. He’d always been incompetent at controlling his thoughts and emotions, anyway.

_“King?”_

_The day of the funeral for Tatara’s father, Mikoto had barely been bothered to roll out of bed. He had to go and pay his respects to that crusty old asshole? Hell no. But Izumo had actually taken the time to dress formally, and Tatara was pale, looking as if he was about to fall over. There it was again, that frailty that Mikoto hated to see in the younger male. He knew only too well that Totsuka was weak, but to physically_ see _him showing vulnerability of any sort left Mikoto uneasy and ready to snap at the first person who so much as insulted Tatara. It was Tatara’s shaky smile and Izumo’s stern glare that got him to the funeral. Mikoto didn’t bother being respectful, remembering the time he’d had to beat up the fucker. He’d been a horrible excuse for a father, in Mikoto’s opinion. Add to that Tatara having already lost a set of parents at a young age, and now this…it made Mikoto’s stomach churn with an unfamiliar emotion that he immediately didn’t like. It was guilt, but maybe sympathy. Or pain…he couldn’t tell._

_“King, am I coldhearted?” As the coffin was being lowered into the ground, this question reached his ears.  
“Mm?” Mikoto thought he’d misheard for a moment until he returned Tatara’s dry-eyed gaze, full of uncertainty. Mikoto couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Tatara Totsuka, coldhearted? No…and whatever reason that Totsuka had for believing such a thing wasn’t fathomable to the taller of the two. Tatara was kind to everyone and everybody. He stuck around Mikoto, he smiled at him and hugged him and made him feel like less of a monster. He liked to hold his and Izumo’s hands. He was childish, loved ice cream, and could be a prankster. He jumped from hobby to hobby, but everything he did, he gave his all to. He helped the elderly cross the road and with their shopping. He housed lost puppies at Izumo’s bar, using his charm and huge doe eyes to reluctantly get Izumo to agree. He liked picking flowers and giving them to people in the hospital. He sang nursery rhymes and was as immature as could be – but Mikoto knew that this was all a façade, really. Tatara was…extremely complex. Mikoto didn’t think he’d ever be able to unravel the mystery that was Tatara Totsuka. _

_‘Coldhearted?’_

_Mikoto snorted internally. Tatara was as capable of being coldhearted and indifferent as he, Mikoto, was capable of turning into a frog. ‘Coldhearted’ was something Mikoto would never associate with Totsuka, so why –_

_Then realisation struck him, and Mikoto felt a familiar growl of anger vibrate in his throat. He would bet Izumo’s entire bar that it was Totsuka’s now-deceased father had told him that. “You aren’t.” Mikoto rumbled, lightly smacking the back of the brunette’s head. “Believe that dead bastard as much as I believe in dieting.” Now, that was a line he’d semi-stolen from Izumo, the day he’d taken over the bar. An angry customer had been screeching about false advertising at the hands of Tatara, who had smiled sweetly at them. “Believe that kid as much as I believe in dieting, miss.” Izumo had replied smoothly, polishing a recently-clean tumbler. Mikoto had snorted, muttering something incomprehensible into his drink before smacking the back of Tatara’s head._  
_“If you really want to pick up a pretty girl so bad, ask Izumo.” He’d murmured._  
 _“Who said I was interested in a pretty girl?” Tatara had looked away, flushed bright red. Mikoto had narrowed his eyes in confusion, not understanding the meaning behind his words._

 _He was drawn back into the present by Totsuka’s exclamation of, “You really think so?” Now Totsuka’s eyes were shining as he stared up at Mikoto (who was cursing himself for spacing out and going off down memory lane_ again _). “Really truly, King?” The burly redhead shifted on his feet uncomfortably, wondering what these newfound emotions were that made him feel slightly guilty. Maybe he was sick. That might explain why…he cleared his throat and diverted his gaze from Totsuka’s. Next to him, Izumo sniggered._  
_“What?” Mikoto muttered darkly._  
 _“Oh, nothing. It’s just nice to see you smile, for once.” At his friend’s cheerful words, the redhead’s hands flew to his mouth. Huh?! He hadn’t been smiling, no way! “Tatara’s glad you’re here, you know.” Izumo added after a few moments. “I gotta give the kid credit. He sure likes you.” Mikoto had stood there baffled by his words. Tatara had just been swept off into a crowd of relatives, most of whom had no idea how bad Tatara’s father had become in the last few years. This left Mikoto room to stare without being too obvious, which would result in him getting teased by the very one his gaze was directed at._

_Like…as in, friends? Mikoto couldn’t understand it. He filed it away in his mind under ‘things to not think about as they’ll cause my damn head to explode’ and forgot about it. Abruptly changing the subject, he nudged Izumo’s arm and the two slipped through the crowd, shouldering people aside where necessary, until they were standing at Tatara’s shoulders. Izumo rested a hand on his shoulder and Mikoto glared people down as they approached. He hated all of them, really. All these years and they had either turned a blind eye or not cared enough to help Tatara, or visit him. That really was coldhearted, Mikoto noted, eyes momentarily flicking to Tatara. Really, truly._

What was this burning behind his eyes? For a moment, Mikoto believed that he’d truly managed to set himself on fire. But the burning became persistent stinging, and it didn’t take him long to realise that maybe, just maybe…he was crying. His mouth twisted in a grimace. This was some sick joke. This must be punishment for allowing himself to get close to someone. Who was next – Anna? Izumo? Yata? As he spiralled deeper down into that dark, dark pit, he didn’t bother searching for a place to stop. Instead he gripped the darkness with his own two hands, clawing downwards. He knew he’d never reach the bottom, but why try and surface, when there was no Tatara there to call down to him?

_“King!”_

‘ _Go away.’_ Mikoto thought bitterly. _‘Leave me alone, would you? Brat. Fool. Going and getting yourself killed.’_

_“King, wait up!”_

“You always tried to catch up.” Mikoto hissed aloud. “See where it got you? You _brat_. You should have listened when Izumo told you to stay away.” The darkness around him became fire, so bright and hot that surely if he touched anything it would disintegrate into ash. Tatara had reached through the flames to grab him, wrapping his arms tightly around the redhead, refusing to let go. ‘ _Look where it’s gotten you._ ’ Mikoto wished he could simply rip himself apart. Hearing his voice like this, knowing it was all his fault that his precious Vassal was dead – this was the worst kind of torture imaginable. He would never have believed it. Not until now.

He’d spent the first hour or so pacing back and forth, laying a massive hand gently upon the wound, stroking Tatara’s hair back from his face, playing with his cold, limp hand. It hadn’t seemed real, at first – but of course, what had? The very idea that his Vassal would die was something that haunted his nightmares, but that was where the fear had remained. Nobody had ever actually thought the singer would – or rather, _could_ – die. Not when they needed him so much. Not when…not when he had so much to live for.

“You promised you’d always be here.” Mikoto’s voice sounded oddly strangled. “You said that if I needed you, you’d be here.” The Red King’s clenched fists trembled. “But you’re _not._ You’re not here, Tatara.” He felt…he didn’t know how he felt, actually. He’d never been good with all this emotion stuff. Feelings, what were they again? He wished that Tatara had made the joke, all bright and bubbly, smiling at him as though he were the only one in the world. He wished he could ruffle that head of hair one more time, see those eyes sparkle with joy as Tatara ran his hands lovingly over the strings of his guitar. Anything – _anything_ – but having to look over at the bed and see Totsuka lying there lifelessly.

Izumo had gently closed the Vassal’s eyes for the last time, while Yata and Rikio had cleaned his face of blood. Shohei, strangely quiet, had covered him with a sheet, which now lay as a heap of ash thanks to Mikoto’s fire of anguish. Mikoto wondered if there was a HOMRA member who hadn’t cried. Briefly he thought of the traitorous Fushimi, and wondered if he would care at all that Tatara was dead. He wondered if anyone else would care that such a bright soul was dead. Of course, news would travel quickly. It seemed that in this city, even the walls had eyes and ears.

Would anyone care?

That kept cycling through his mind. Would anyone remember Tatara like he would? Would Totsuka’s memorial remain just a cold lump of stone, alone, eventually falling into disrepair? Mikoto clenched his jaw. Izumo…Izumo had said that it had been the Colourless King who had killed Tatara. After all, those had been some of Totsuka’s last words, and he wouldn’t lie.

_‘The Colourless King, huh?’_

Mikoto turned and walked over to Totsuka’s body. He gently removed the dead brunette’s earring and inserted it into the empty hole in his own ear. He swallowed roughly, trying to ignore the burning tears that had returned. “I’ll make sure it wasn’t for nothing.” His voice was but a quiet rumble.

_“King, don’t hurt anyone for me.”_

But it was too late for that. Too late for naiveté and pleading. Look where Totsuka’s goodwill had gotten him, after all.

_“He isn’t worth it, King.”_

“For you, anyone is.” Mikoto growled, aura swelling and burning until it was visible, until flames surrounded him once more. “I’ll make him pay, Tatara. He’ll regret everything when I’m finished with him.”

_“King!”_

He shut the Vassal’s voice out of his head. It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did anymore. Nothing ever would again, until Totsuka would be avenged. Until the pain inside would end, forever.

\---

 _Who will love you?_  
_Who will fight?_  
 _And who will fall far behind?_  
 _Come on, skinny love…_

* * *

 

The day Mikoto Suoh died, he’d vanquished the Colourless King, pissed of the Blue King, met the Silver King, and probably given Izumo enough reason to hold a grudge against him for the next 30 years. Oh, and managed to avenge his lover. All in all, a very busy, very productive day.

Fighting Munakata hadn’t been on his list of things to do that day, but nevertheless, here he was wasting his time with the Blue King. “I know you want to prevent another Kagatsu crater.” He muttered under his breath. “But I need to find the Colourless King.” But in a way, he was grateful to the Blue King. The dark-haired man was allowing him to work off his negative energy so that when Suoh finally _did_ stumble across the Colourless King again, his mind would be clear. Munakata probably didn’t view their fight this way, but no matter.

In the end, the Colourless King found _him_ – though somehow, the Silver King and the Colourless King were residing inside the one body. He could see the conflicting auras. Hell, some weird stuff was going down. But as one of the seven King’s, you couldn’t really escape ‘weird’. In fact, it seemed to find you, much like how Tatara had found him. Suoh turned his attention back to the King’s in front of him. The body was glowing, and the redhead could only watch in confusion as an argument broke out of the one body. But…a smile tugged at his lips. It looked like he better not waste anymore time.

“Yeah, I appreciate that.” His whole body thrummed with energy as he readied himself for the final blow. “Thanks for bringing him here.” The body couldn’t have been aged over 17. _‘What would you do in this situation, Tatara?’_ Surely his Vassal would have tried to stop him, Anna in his arms and Izumo beside him, eyes brimming with determination. Fire unfurled from Suoh’s back, much like dragon wings as he drew back his hand. Would Totsuka and Anna have been running towards him by now, yelling at him to back down?

“Stop it, Suoh! Don’t do it!” However now it was the Blue King attempting to stop him. Mikoto might have appreciated his words or laughed at him, had he not been intent on fulfilling his goal of destroying the Colourless King. Time stood still for a moment as he thrust his flaming fist into the white-haired body’s chest. He closed his eyes, searching with his own flickering aura for the other auras. He found one, a silvery, brilliant light, pulsing with life and power. Not the one he wanted. Then – for a moment, he saw it. This aura was weaker than both his and the Silver King’s, and was splintered and barely holding together. It would be only to easy to grab that aura, and tear it to shreds. So that’s what he did – he latched onto the aura and with a last, final effort, drew his power to him in a raging torrent. He heard a final scream, though it was probably only in his head, and suddenly he was flooded with bright, white light and a rumbling that rivalled the sound of an earthquake. As the fire from the impact washed over him, he only grinned. He swear he heard his jaw creak – he hadn’t smiled like this for a while. There – _there_! The murderer was dead. The rest of HOMRA were safe, and Tatara…he’d been avenged. Now Mikoto was sated by the fact that Totsuka hadn’t died in vain.

The smoke and dust haze cleared, and he straightened up, hands dangling by his sides. Electricity, coloured scarlet, was coiled like a vine around his muscular frame. He exhaled deeply and glanced up, towards the enormous sword that hovered above him. It was chipped and faded, crackling with the same energy that was around his body. So…he’d die avenging Tatara. Protecting HOMRA. What’s that thing Totsuka had told him once? The Vassal said that he’d found someone to protect. And…Mikoto could see what he meant. He, too, had found someone to protect. A whole clan, in fact. He turned to see Munakata staring at him, eyes narrowed and filled with what looked like distaste. He was without his glasses, and Mikoto had to wonder if the flashy things were just for show. Ha, he wouldn’t put it past the Blue King. Maybe he just liked the way they looked. He felt as though this situation warranted him saying something. Turning to look at the other King, he smiled.

“Sorry. For making you do the dirty work…”

“Don’t give me that garbage with such a peaceful look on your face. If you really felt that way, wasn’t there something you could have done…before this happened?” Ha, so he had a mouth on him, too! Mikoto wanted to smirk, except…he shot another look at his Sword of Damocles. He didn’t have much time left, it seemed. But he knew that the Blue King was right – he _should_ have done something. He cared about Tatara, and…he should have protected him. Shouldn’t have let him wonder of. Shouldn’t have let him _die_ on a cold rooftop, bleeding out with a bullet in his abdomen. But there were too many ‘I should haves’; too many ‘I would haves’ and not enough ‘I did’s’.

“You’ve said enough, Munakata.” He looked at the Sword hovering above him again. Ah…so it was time. He wished that he could’ve at least said goodbye to Anna. Izumo he’d already farewelled, though he wished he had done more than just clapped him on the shoulder. After all, the Kusanagi was his oldest and most trusted friend. They’d been through everything together. And Yata…the kid would be heartbroken. The others had looked up to him too – he was their King. But it was too late to wish for anything else. Too…late. He’d spread his arms, head tipped back, feeling less burdened than he had since he had become a King all those years ago. He opened his eyes for a moment to watch Reisi, who seemed to be in shock.

As he stood before the Blue King, who looked vulnerable and, dare he say, _sad_ , Mikoto couldn’t help but think of Tatara. He wondered if he should perhaps try and offer reassurance to Munakata with Totsuka’s catchphrase, which would hurt to say as he remembered the bloodstained corpse that had been brought home that night. If Izumo caught wind of it, he’d call him a masochist. Or a sadist, depending on Munakata’s reaction.

But before he could dwell on it too long, before his sword could fall, before he could die from the impact, Munakata had rushed forwards and impaled him*.

What a way to go. Impaled by the Blue King’s shiny, glittery metal sword. It seemed history had not repeated itself, which was good, because he wasn’t the superstitious type.

At first, he coughed, instantly hoping he didn’t get blood on Munakata’s uniform. The guy would probably kill him again for that. After all, dry cleaning those fancy robes was probably _extremely_ expensive. He would have laughed, if he hadn’t had a sword sticking in him. What was this light-hearted air, this sarcasm? He was dying…he was meant to feel regretful, or sad. Or angry? He wasn’t sure. Was this how Tatara had felt as he lay there dying? Now Mikoto couldn’t blame him for smiling as he died. When you were dying, and were losing a lot of blood, your train of thought got _really_ weird. Example A: the Red King thinking about dry cleaning. He found Totsuka’s final words running through his head. Yata had told Mikoto that he’d said that damn catchphrase of his, then… _sorry._ “Sorry.” Mikoto echoed, at which Munakata’s grip on the sword trembled. His thoughts returned to Izumo and Anna. Anna…oh no. A stab of guilt made its way through the haze now clouding his mind. He collapsed fully forwards onto Reisi as his knees buckled. “You…keep an eye on Anna for me. And…give her…this sword.” After all, it wasn’t the first time the little princess had been in danger. She’d need someone else powerful to look out for her…now that…he wouldn’t be coming back. As for the sword…she needed to…know.

_‘I’m sorry, Anna. I won’t be able to show you…that beautiful red anymore.’_

Mikoto felt the world spin. His amber eyes clouded, and lazily, he let them close a final time. Just before his heart stopped, a face flashed through his mind. One that was achingly familiar. A face with a smile bright enough to rival the sun, with soft brown eyes that twinkled as though the owner of those doe-like eyes was silently laughing at a moment of mischief. Tatara…his heart ached (though it may have just been the sword in his chest). If there _was_ such thing as an afterlife, would he get to see his beloved Vassal again?

_‘Wait for me one last time, Tatara. I…love you.’_

**FIN**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *all I wanted to do was add a Frozen joke in here. please imagine Anna cosplaying as Elsa. pls imagine Totsuka and Anna dressing up Mikoto as Kristoff while he sleeps. pls imagine Fushimi as Hans and Shohei putting reindeer antlers on Bandou. pls imagine Totsuka as Ana and Izumo as the priest. pls imagine Yata as the snowman. also, the Colourless King as the weaseltown duke. I’M SO SORRY BUT PLEASE IMAGINE IT


End file.
